


Fighting My Own War

by Per5on



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Addiction, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, But only a little, Child Abuse, Creature Harry Potter, Creature Inheritance, Fred Weasley Lives, Glamour Charms (Harry Potter), Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter Has Issues, Harry Potter Has Nightmares, Harry Potter Has PTSD, Harry is an elf, Loooooots of Violence, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Nesting, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Percy Weasley Dies Instead (sorry not sorry 🤷), Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-War, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Severus Snape Lives, Violence, but it’s not graphic, but not really because it’s potions, it’s not done yet so, ok it kinda is, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28089741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Per5on/pseuds/Per5on
Summary: TW: This entire story will talk about abuse, rape, self harm, and other things like that. There will be swearing, and panic attacks, and all sorts of other things. So please read at your own risk.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This entire story will talk about abuse, rape, self harm, and other things like that. There will be swearing, and panic attacks, and all sorts of other things. So please read at your own risk.

The days after the war were long ones. Harry spent most of his time in the hospital wing, under Madam Pompfery’s watchful care.

When he wasn’t in the hospital wing, he was roaming the broken halls of the castle that was once his home. It had been ravaged by the war, and too many had died inside its walls. Harry thought that Hogwarts was a fitting representation of what was left of him after the war. He was an empty shell, his purpose had been served and he was too broken to be used again any time soon.

And then, of course, was the fact that he was only 17. According to the last letter Dumbledore ever sent, Harry was required to stay at the Dursley’s until his 18th birthday.

Saying he was devastated was a gross understatement.

Most people who knew Harry knew that the Dursley’s were less than loving, but even Harry’s closest friends had no clue how deep the abuse really ran.

These were the thoughts swirling through Harry’s mind on the dark evening he knocked on the door to number 4 Privet Drive.

The door swung open and he was greeted by the ugly bright red face of Vernon Dursley, the head walrus of the house.

“What are you doing here freak?! We are supposed to be rid of you!”

“It seems I am required to stay here until my birthday, Uncle Vernon.”

By now, Vernon was turning a nice shade of purple. He grabbed Harry’s collar and yanked him inside, slamming the door.

“What are you supposed to call me, freak?”

In a monotone voice, Harry replied, “Sir during the day, master at night.”

Vernon swiftly backhanded him across the face, “And what did you call me when I opened the door?”

“Uncle Vernon, sir” at this point Harry was numb. He was quite good at shutting down any emotions or reactions that would lead to him getting punished.

Grabbing Harry by the hair and dragging him up the stairs into the second bedroom, “So what happens now?”

“I must be punished, sir.” Vernon shoved one sausage-like finger into Harry’s solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him, and then delivered a swift kick to his groin.

Harry doubled over in pain and wheezed. “Did I give you permission to move boy?!?” Vernon roared.

“No sir,” Harry rasped.

“What was that, you wretched freak?”

Harry glanced at the window and saw that it was officially dark, “No master.”

Vernons face twisted into an ugly grin, “That’s what I thought boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I’m posting it, I realize that this is really short..... oh well. Chapter one everybody!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have a beta, so any and all grammar or spelling mistakes are mine.

It’s 11:59 pm on Friday, July 30th, and Harry was counting down the seconds before he could leave this wretched place.

“10...

9...

8...

7...

6...

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...”

“Happy birth~” 

Suddenly he is engulfed by a white hot pain, from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair. He arches his back and grits his teeth, forcing the screams in his throat back.

A half hour later, the pain stops as suddenly as it started, leaving Harry panting on his bed, racked with the aftershocks of the strange pain.

Exhausted and unable to stay away, he burrows under the single thin blanket and passes out.

~*~

He is awoken by the sound of the locks in his door being slammed open. Vernon stomps in and yanks away his blanket, “Up, boy! You have work to do.”

Keeping his head down, he replies, “Yes sir.”

Vernon sneers and shoves a paper at him, “Finish those before you make lunch, then come wait in here for me.”

“Yes sir,” Harry says, still staring at the floor.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you boy!” He yanks up Harry’s head by his hair and gasps. 

“What is this freak?!? Have you been using,” he gulps. “Magic? In MY home?!?”

“No sir, of course not sir,” Harry replies quickly, confused.

Vernon digs his fat fingers into the place where he fractured Harry’s arm, and drags him to the bathroom.

Harry winces silently, and stumbles over his own feet.

Shoving him in from of the mirror, Vernon bellows, “This looks an awful lot like MAGIC you ungrateful little devil spawn!”

Harry is shocked, to say the least. He looks completely different.

His unruly hair had straightened out at the ends, his green eyes slightly larger and a glowing avada kadavra green. He had gained a willowy frights overnight, his legs lengthening and giving him and extra inch or two. He was still black and blue, his face still swollen and his left arm is still crooked.

But now... his soft jaw had grown sharp, and his cheekbones were more prominent... he was injured, but he was also undoubtedly handsome.

“Well?!?” Vernons yell broke him out of his reverie, and he scrambled to answer him.

“Um, I-I uh,” Harry stammers searching for an excuse that doesn’t have to do with magic.

Vernon quickly gets fed up and grabs him by his neck, cutting off his air and lifting him up effortlessly.

He drags Harry to the second bedroom, tosses him in the bed, and the torture begins...

~*~

Harry was swimming in darkness. He knew he needed to wake up, but he wasn’t sure he could.

He groaned quietly and forced his eyes open. He was still in number 4 Privet Drive, and he needed to leave.

He rolled so his feet touched the floor and winced, his eyes watering at the intense pain that covered his entire body, but particularly from the pain that radiated from his arse.

Standing up on shaky legs, he slowly made his way over to his wardrobe. Opening the doors, he examined the clothes and picked the loosest ones. He barely managed to put on socks, and couldn’t get himself to put on pants under his sweats.

Casting a wandless and wordless tempus, he sees that’s it’s half one in the morning.

Slowly creeping down the stairs, careful not to make any noise, he open his old cupboard and grabs his wand. He makes sure everything is in his trunk, grabs his moneybag, and shrinks down his trunk.

He had gotten good at glamours over the years, so he applied his basic one, (one that covered all of his injuries and made him look healthier) and limped out to the curb.

Praying that Stan wouldn’t ask any questions, he summoned the Knight Bus. 

“‘Ello Harry! ‘Choo call?”

“Hello Stan, I did call,” Harry shook his head and smiled a small smile.

“Where you off ta?” Stan asked, wiggling his brows, “Goin’ ta see a lady friend are ya? Word in the Prophet is that you and some Ravenclaw girl are shackin up.”

Harry scoffed, “Since when do you believe a word the Prophet prints?”

“Don’ really, you know that best, eh Harry?” He shrugged and grinned, “Anyhow, where ya headed?”

“Number 12 Grimmauld Place. I’ve got an extra two galleons if you’ll put me at the top of the list,” he said reaching into his pocket.

“We was headin’ over that way anyways, weren’t we Ernie? Don’ worry bout the extra charge.”

“But Stan-“

“‘Ush up Harry, you know you’re my favorite customer. Now get in th’ bus befor we leave.”

Harry sighed and nodded, “Alright Stan.”

“Thas more like it! Now sit down. Ernie! 12 Grimmauld you hear?”

“I hear, it’s gunna be a bumpy ride!”

~*~

One nauseating trip later, Harry was dropped off in front of Grimmauld Place. He hadn’t been back since Sirius died, and he wasn’t excited to be back at all.

He touches his wand to the door and it creaks open. He winces and hopes that the portrait of Sirius’ mother had its curtains drawn.

Trudging down the hallway and into the den, he drops his trunk on the coffee table and unshrinks it. He rustles around inside until he finds a blanket, and then curls up on the couch and falls into a fitful sleep that was full of nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear that these chapters were longer when I wrote them... Anyway, chapter twooooo!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything that isn’t abuse is cannon. Harry cannonically had 13 concussions before he turned 18, and four of them were severe. I stayed as close as I could, and then went through and added the things that are needed for the fic.

Harry, in the midst of his stomach-churning nightmare, felt someone watching him. 

He continued to writhe, feigning sleep, and heard a footstep bring whoever it was closer.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was leaping up and grabbing his wand, sweeping his legs underneath that of his assailant and knocking them over.

“Petrificus totalus!” The person beneath him stops struggling and he puts his left forearm over their throat and pushes down, hard, shoving his wand in their face.

Panting heavily, he blinks slowly and takes in the body under him. His face is inches away from theirs, and it takes him a minute to focus enough to see who it is.

“Snape?”

“Yes, Potter. I would greatly appreciate it if you got off me.”

“But you... I watched you die... you bled out in my arms... from the bite on your neck...”

“Well it seems I’m not dead, hmmm?”

“What is the first question you asked my class when I was a first year?”

“Potter I don’t have time-“

“WHAT WAS IT!”

Startled, Snape replies, “What would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood.”

“And the answer is?” 

“Potter honestly...”

Harry just pokes him in the nose with his wand.

“Draught of Living Death. Now release me.”

Sighing, Harry stands up, now that the adrenaline has worn off he’s exhausted and in much more pain, and says “Finite incantatum.”

Snape stands up and brushes himself off. Harry eyes him wearily and quietly sighs, “You died. I was there. If I close my eyes for too long I can still see you sitting there... gushing blood from your neck... my hands covered.... there wasn’t enough essence of dittany in the world for that...”

He sneered, “As it turns out I didn’t die, Potter.”

“Harry.”

“What?”

“My name is Harry, and I would like you to use it. You are much too old to be holding onto schoolboy rivalries, no matter how terrible they were. And I am much to tired to deal with your preconceived notions of who I am.”

Snape stared, startled. “Very well then. If you are to be called Harry, then you shall call me Severus I suppose.”

**Snapes POV**

We sit in awkward silence for awhile before he sighs and asks, “Why are you here?”

I look at him out of the corner of my eye and say, “The wards from when the Order used the house were still in place, and I was allowed through. I needed somewhere to stay where I wouldn’t be watched or killed.”

He nods, “Did you replace the wards?”

“Not yet, no. I only arrived three days ago, and since then I have been quite busy.”

Potter grumbled something about “too tired for this” and “gonna pass out” before standing up shakily.

“Potter, what are you doing?”

“Harry. And starting the new wards.”

He walks around the room -limps actually- and starts setting up the wards. When he’s down he turns to me and asks, “Did you seal the floo?”

Nodding I stand up, “Yes, all the floos are sealed. Anyone who tries to floo should be bounced a hundred feet away at least.”

I take a few steps closer to where he’s leaning on the wall. He looks quite pale, and he’s shaking and sweating.

I guide him over to the armchair and sit him down in it, “Why are you here Po- Harry?”

He tenses and looks at me sideways, as if trying to figure out how much to say. Eventually he settles on, “I needed somewhere to stay.”

Before I can stop myself, I sneer, “Why not stay with your relatives then? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind treating you like a prince for a few more years.”

The sound that comes out of his mouth shocks me. It’s a bitter laugh, one filled with pain and regret, “I was not treated like a prince, Severus.”

I open my mouth to reply, taken aback, when I notice just how exhausted he looks. I run a discreet diagnostic charm, and my eyes widen when I see the results.

“Harry,” I say, my voice vibrating with anger.

“Hmmm?” He’s too tired to even notice.

“Take off your glamours.”

At that he sits bolt upright, “What?”

“Your glamours,” I snarl out. “Take them off.”

He gives me a searching look, “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will murder you. And I won’t care about witnesses.”

I look him straight in the eye, “Understood.”

He heaved out a sigh, and his glamours fall.

He is anorexically thin, you can see every bone in his arms and legs, and I bet you can see his ribs and spine too. Every inch of exposed skin is black, blue, or green. His left arm hangs slightly crooked and his right foot is swollen to about twice the size it should be. His cheeks are hollow and his eyes are sunken in and bloodshot.

But, at the same time, he’s breathtakingly handsome. Higher cheekbones than I remember, a sharper jaw, his hair is longer and silky. His eyes are still green, but they’re now closer to Avada Kedavra green than emerald, and they seem to glow slightly with an internal light.

My eyes bulge, “Potter... Harry... what happened to you?”

“My loving relatives,” he states bitterly, sinking further into the chair.

Of course, I didn’t just mean his injuries.

“You....” I pause. “You need to go to St. Mungo’s. Right now. How are you still conscious? And you managed to take me down while you look like that?”

“No. I’m not going to St Mungo’s. Sirius had some potions downstairs, I’ll just take a few and bandage myself up. I’ll be fine.”

“Harry,” I growled. “If you insist on staying here, you might as well let me assist you.” I stand up and start making my way out of the room.

“But-“

I turn around and pin him with a glare, “If I find out you moved from that chair at all while I’m down there...”

His back goes ramrod straight and then he relaxes into the chair, “Yes sir.”

I leave the room and head to the basement. There are several rooms down there, an ingredient storeroom, a potion storeroom, and a full potions lab among them.

Opening the potions storeroom, I being searching for essence of dittany, some basic healing and pain relieving potions, dreamless sleep, and a bruise balm.

Once I have everything, I go back into the den, only to find Harry passed out where I left him.

Sighing, I set the potions down, “Harry.... Harry....” He doesn’t wake up, so I reluctantly decide to carry him to a bedroom.

I open the door to Sirius’ old room and cast a quick scorgify, then I pull back the covers and go get Harry. I gently pick him up bridal style and he cuddles into me.

Inhaling sharply I do my best not to move so he doesn’t wake up, and when I’m sure he’s completely asleep I take him to the room I cleaned for him. I gently set him down and pull up the covers, tucking him in.

Letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I accio my wand from where I left it in the den and cast a more in-depth diagnostic spell, one that will let me see all of his current and past injuries so that I can set him up on the proper potions regiment.

I also spell the potions into his stomach, and the balm onto anywhere that was even slightly bruised.

My eyes then quickly scan the paper for the charm, and my heart breaks for Harry, and burns in anger at the injustice of it.

~*~

RESULTS OF THE DIAGNOSTIC

Age 0-1: Healthy 

Age 2: Cuts and scrapes

Age 3: Malnourishment, cuts and scrapes, common cold, twisted ankle

Age 4: Malnourishment, cuts and scrapes, headcold, 3rd degree burns on left hand and arm, blunt force trauma on chest back and face

Age 5: Malnourishment, deep cuts along chest and stomach, 2nd degree burn on arms and hands, common cold, blunt force trauma 

Age 6: Malnourishment, cuts and scrapes, 1st degree burns, hairline fracture in right foot, blunt force trauma

Age 7: Malnourishment, asphyxiation, stress fracture in right shoulder, blunt force trauma

Age 8: Malnourishment, the flu, blunt force trauma, sexual harassment, deep cuts along stomach back and chest, asphyxiation

Age 9: Malnourishment, blunt force trauma, common cold, asphyxiation, three (3) cracked ribs, mild concussion 

Age 10: Malnourishment, asphyxiation, five (5) cracked ribs, blunt force trauma, 2nd degree burns, mild concussion, four (4) broken fingers

Age 11: Malnourishment, asphyxiation, sexual harassment, blunt force trauma, very severe concussion 

Age 12: Malnourishment, blunt force trauma, six (6) broken toes, severe concussion, fractured left wrist, sexual harassment, internal bleeding, bones in right arm vanished, Basilisk venom and bite, Phoenix tears

Age 13: Malnourishment, blunt force trauma, minor concussion, dementor attacks

Age 14: Malnourishment, blunt force trauma, sexual abuse, deep cuts along thighs back and chest, hypothermia, scar bleeding, leg injured by acromantula 

Age 15: Malnourishment, blunt force trauma, rape, very severe concussion, the flu, deep cuts along arms and back, dementor attack, extensive blood quill usage, cracked skull, internal bleeding 

Age 16: Malnourishment, blunt force trauma, broken nose, very severe concussion, cracked skull, rape, internal bleeding 

Age 17: Malnourishment, very severe concussion, blunt force trauma, punctured lung, internal bleeding 

Age 18: Malnourishment, blunt force trauma, asphyxiation, fractured left arm, broken right ankle, minor concussion, rape, internal bleeding

Ages 4-10 and 12-18: Regular starvation, over worked, hay fever, chronic exhaustion, chronic dehydration 

Ages 2-18: Nightmares

Ages 3-6, 8-11, and 13-18: Night terrors

Ages 11-17: Various charms, hexes, jinxes, curses, and spells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a happy chapter, sunshine and rainbows! Anywhooo, comment away, ‘cause I’m going to try to reply to any and all comments.


	4. Chapter 4

Still Snape’s POV

While Harry is sleeping, I do some research in the Black library. It seems that the Blacks have a history of elf inheritances.

Typically inheritances come at the age of 16, 17 at the very latest. But considering the circumstances I can see why he’d take a bit longer.

Currently, I’m reading the Elf Inheritance section of  _ A Guide to Black Family Inheritances _ . It’s a thick, leather-bound book, handwritten in spindly cursive with no author to be seen.

Apparently, newly inherited Black elves imprint like newborn ducks or kittens. The first person they see, that provides comfort or helps them in any way, becomes their mentor of sorts.

If Harry had been living with his parents, one of them would become his mentor, and they would teach him about elves and such. They would also instruct him on proper courting rituals and be required to give their blessing on his mate.

Of course, if they didn’t give their blessing, Harry wouldn’t listen anyway. But traditionally, the mentor has to give their blessing of the mate, basically wishing the two a healthy courting and future, before the second stage of courting can began.

It suddenly dawns on me that Harry has most likely imprinted on me.

“Merlin’s saggy pants,” I lean back in my chair in the corner of the library and take a deep breath.

“This is going to be interesting...”

~*~

** Harry’s POV **

I’m warm. Weirdly warm. 

I can’t remember ever waking up this warm.

Slowly, I crack open my eyes and try to turn my head, but I can’t. I try to move my arms and legs and I realize that I’m cocooned in a bunch of blankets.

I try to get out, but my movements are completely restricted. I wiggle around, and end up falling off the bed.

Someone opens the door, and I look up to see Severus with one eyebrow raised. I think I saw his lip twitch, but it might’ve been my imagination. 

He reached down to help me, but I scoot away, “I can do it.”

He watches as I struggle and squirm until I end up under the bed. “Maybe I need a little help,” I sigh and stop moving.

He chuckles, a deep beautiful sound, and pulls me out from under the bed.

“How on earth did you manage that?” He mutters.

“What do you mean? Didn’t  you  wrap me up?” I asked, confused.

“No,” he replies. “When I left they were just on top of you.”

I shrug, “Must’ve been cold.”

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, “Hmmm.”

He finds the edge of the first blanket and starts unwrapping me. Out of nowhere, I hiss and roll away, bearing my teeth.

Severus stares at me for a moment, “Why did you hiss at me?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He hims again before saying, “I need to go look at something.” And turning on his heel, swishing out the door.

After a few moments I start getting fidgety and try to bury my head in the blankets without undoing them.

He chooses that exact moment to come back with a large leather-bound book in his hands. He raises an eyebrow at me before setting the book down on the side table with a  thunk

He opens it gently and starts flipping through. Suddenly, he stops, eyes quickly scanning the page.

“Exactly as I thought. You’re nesting.”

“I’m  what? ”

“Nesting. You wrapped yourself up so that you can decide if those blankets are suitable for your nest.” As he’s talking, he settles into what I call his ‘lecture voice’. “The nest, when it’s completed, will be your safe space. If you are stressed or sad or overwhelmed, you will go to your nest to feel safe and secure. It is also where you will bond with your mate for the first time, where you will give birth to any children, and where you will spend a majority of the third stage of courting. After courting, your mate will need express permission from you to enter the nest. The nest will need to be in a dark room, and you will fill it with things that smell like your friends, family, mate, and yourself.A nest can take years to be made up to your standards, and if anyone has children it will be changed to add their smells.”

My head is spinning with all this new information, “Um, mate? Children? Courting? I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You are an elf, Mr. Potter-“

“Harry,” I correct him.

He sighs, “You are an elf, Harry. You came into your inheritance on your 18th birthday. Haven’t you received your Gringotts letter?”

“My what?” I am so very very confused.

“Your Gringotts letter. Telling you that they are aware of your inheritance and to schedule an appointment?”

I shake my head, “I’ve never gotten a letter from Gringotts in my entire life.”

He looks at me for a second, and when he talks his voice is practically vibrating with anger, “You have not once received a letter from Gringotts? In your entire life?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the ‘p’.

He growled, “Mother of Circe, you are _meant_ to receive a letter from Gringotts once a year for your vault statements, and more if there is any suspicious activity!”

“I’ve never really gotten letters,” I shrug.

He stops seething and looks at me, “You’ve never gotten letters? Of any kind?”

“Except letters from Hermione and Ron and stuff.”

“Someone has been keeping your mail from you. We’ll have to go to Gringotts and get that rectified.”

“.... How am I supposed to go anywhere if I can’t get out of these blankets?”

“Eventually you will be able to leave, once you’ve decided if they are suitable nest material or not.”

I wiggle down into them and get comfy, “They are very warm, and cozy.” 

My eyes close and I relax all my muscle. “I wouldn’t mind having a nest made out of these,” I murmur.

As soon as I say that, they fall to the sides and I’m laying on the floor surrounded by blankets.

“Awwww I was enjoying that,” I pout.

Severus’ lips twitch up and he stands me up.

“I want you to read the chapters I have marked,” he says as he hands me the book.

“Summer reading Professor?” I say as I take it from him. “Jeez this weighs a tonne.”

He scowls at me, “It’s spelled to be never ending so that it can be continuously added to.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

“Indeed. Now, the chapters I’ve marked are the first few on Black Family Elves and what you should expect being newly inherited.”

The place he had marked was at least four inches thick! “How am I supposed to read all of that?!”

He gives me his signature glare, “With your eyes, Harry.”

**Snape’s POV**

He sits up a bit straighter, “Yeah, alright.”

I watch for a moment as he opens the book and starts reading the first page in the section I marked. 

I then leave his room and head to the room I’ve claimed as my temporary office.

I open the door, and directly ahead is an old desk. Crouching down, I touch my wand to each of the drawers to open them and start rifling through. 

“Aha,” I lift up a stack of four stapled papers, set them in the desk. I close the drawers and summon my best quill and ink and fill out the papers I just grabbed. 

I read it over and nod my head once. Turning on my heel, I make my way back to Harry’s room.

“Harry,” he jumps.

“Yes Sev?”

I look at him incredulously, “Sev?”

He flushes and stutters, “Um, I-I didn’t mean-“

“Do shut up Harry.”

“Oh um, alright.”

I shake my head slightly, “Anyhow, I would like you to read and sign these forms for me.”

He takes them from me and reads them over, “Uhm, what do you need these for?

“I had planned on going out to Diagon Alley today, and you cannot leave the house yet. So, you sign this, and I can deal with your Gringotts letters and things for you.”

“Oh. Well that makes sense. And I’ll just... read more of this book while you’re gone.”

I nod once, “Precisely.”

I hand him the quill and he signs it in the three places he needs to, “Um, there you go.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll apparate to Gringotts and then I have some errands to run.”

“Alright, I’ll be here.... reading...” he looks at the book forlornly.

I chuckle, startling myself, “I’ll be back in three hours at the latest.”

He eyes me curiously, “Uh, yeah ok. Goodbye, Severus.”

I smile slightly, again surprising myself, “Goodbye, Harry.”

With that, I swiftly spin out of the room. Grabbing my cloak and putting it on, I swish out the front door and spin on one foot, apparating to Gringotts.

—  


**Third Person POV**

Upon arriving at Gringotts, he walked up the large stone steps, and nodded respectfully at the guards.

Once inside, Severus goes to the head clerk, Ragnok, and asks for Potter Account Manager Griphook, handing over the paperwork.

Ragnok waved his hand over it briefly, before tearing it in two and writing a brief note on it. The two pieces form paper airplanes and fly off before he can protest.

A few moments later, Griphook waddled over and beckoned him to his office.

They sat down and Griphook looked at Severus carefully. “Why are you here Potions Master Snape?”

“It seems that Mr Potter has not been receiving his mail, and he has asked me to come here and figure out why.”

The goblin’s face scrunched up a bit before he said, “In the past, the magical gaurdians of minors whose parents had passed on, especially in times of war or family feuding, had a redirection spell placed upon their mail. Any and all owls, except for those sent by the ones who where keyed in by the guardian, would be sent to a chamber attached to the guardian’s vault, where it was then sorted magically by preference of the guardian. Or discarded if found dangerous.”

Severus looked at him for a moment, before replying slowly, “Surely once the minor is no longer a minor, the spell would be removed.”

Griphook grimaced, “That is why the spell is no longer in use. It can only be removed by the magical guardian, or by the minor once they come here and explicitly say that they want it gone. Often, the minors whose guardians used it had no clue it was being used, as their friends and family had been keyed in.”

Taking a deep breath, he replied, “Well it seems that Mr. Potter must come to Gringotts, doesn’t it.”

“Yes,” he looked thoughtful. “The minors, once the spell is removed, are allowed access to any and all mail that had not been discarded or marked dangerous.”

“Gringotts was not keyed in, Account Manager Griphook. Mr Potter has not once received a letter from you, or any other here at Gringotts, in his entire life or wizarding career.”

Griphook looked astonished and appalled, “You mean to say that this spell had not only been used illegally on Mr Potter, but was used to keep any and all information from him?”

Severus nodded gravely, “Indeed.”

After a minute of disgusted silence, Griphook spoke once again, voice tight with anger, “Tomorrow, at one o’clock sharp, you will bring Mr Potter here. I will have all of his account details waiting, including investments and account transactions. We will perform an inheritance test, and we will begin looking at his birth certificate, family tree, and account details. The spell will also be neutralized.”

He nodded again, “I shall inform Mr Potter of this and everything I have learned today.”

“Good. Now go, Potions Master Snape, I have much to do.”

Standing and moving to the door, “I will see you tomorrow, Account Manager Griphook.”

With that, he left the office, walked out the front door onto the steps, “Harry won’t be happy about this.” And apparated to Grimmauld Place.

~*~

Snape’s POV

I was right. He isn’t happy. In fact, he’s so not happy that things are flying around the room in his fit of rage.

“We have an appointment at one tomorrow. If you calm down and wait until then, we can clear all this up.”

I duck to the left as a particularly expensive vase gets chucked my way.

“Harry, get a grip. Breaking everything in the house won’t fix anything.”

Suddenly, there is the telltale crack of apparation and a very old house elf appears.

“What is young master doing! Kreacher has made house very clean for good master Harry’s, return and master Harry is dirtying it! Stop it at once! Hello Greasy Master. I cleaned yous room while yous was away.”

Slightly shocked, it takes me a breath to reply, “Yes, thank you, Kreacher you said?”

He looks up at me, eyes wide, “You-you is thanking me? You is knowing my name?”

His eyes water and he bows so low his nose touches the floor, “I is thanking you, good Greasy Master. And promising to be good elf for you and master Harry.”

As if saying Harry’s name had reminded him of why he had popped in in the first place, he straightens up and walks over to Harry.

“Master Harry,” he starts firmly. “You is needing to stop. Good Greasy Master Severus is being patient with you, but yous being rude. Stop throwing a tantrum, else I’ll give yous a dummy to suck and put yous in a bassinet like I did Master Regulus when he cried as a baby.”

I stared. I’m not sure what was more surprising, listing to this old elf berate Harry as if he were a child, or seeing that Harry listened to him.

In the span of a minute, Harry had calmed down and was panting in the floor. Kreacher nodded once sharply, clicking his fingers, which cleans up the mess and fixed the things Harry had broken.

Clearing his throat, Harry said, “Ahem, yes, thank you Kreacher. I’m sorry for the mess.”

“Not to worry master Harry, I know yous not meaning it.”

Harry smiled, “Just Harry, Kreacher. We’ve talked about this.”

Kreacher sniffed, “I accepted your monies and times off, but I’ll still be calling yous Master Harry. I’d be a disrespectful elf if I did different.”

Smiling a rueful but warm smile, Harry shook his head, “It was worth a shot. How’ve you been Kreacher? I’ve not seen you in a while.”

“Kreacher has been good. The house is clean and tidy always, and I is very happy.” He frowned, “But you hasn’t been. Those nasty filthy muggles have been putting their disgusting nasty handses on you again. They is be needing to be taught to respect their betters.”

Sighing, as if they’d been through this a thousand times, “You know I can’t do that, Kreacher. But I’m glad you’ve been happy.”

Grumbling a bit about nasty muggles, Kreacher replied, “Yes. Very happy since Master Reggie’s last wishes were filled. Mistress Walburga says Master Reggie has a painting somewheres, I’s been looking for it. I thinks I know where it is now, but I can find Master Reggie later. You is been needing potions for long time. I’ll go get the ones you have to take.”

And with that, he popped away.

Once Kreacher was gone, Harry collapsed back into the floor, coughing and spluttering and chocking.

I rush forward, “Are you alright, Harry.”

He waves me off, “I’m fine.”

Coming out of his mouth and nose is a thick black gooey substance, seemingly filled with galaxies. I take a vial from my robes and fill it with the stuff, careful not to touch it.

Examining the vial, I say, “How long have you been coughing up raw magic?”

He looks surprised, but again waves me off, “Long enough to know that I’ll be fine. Watch out, I need to stand up.”

I hesitantly take a step back, worried he’ll fall.

He stands up shakily, holding out his arms for balance. He tries to take a step forward and collapses into me.

“Sorry, Sev. I’m a bit unstable it seems,” he looks up at me sheepishly.

I haul him up into my arms, “Such an outburst of magic after extreme physical and emotional trauma or pain can be damaging. You need to rest.”

I take him to his room, and I’m once again surprised to see a partially made nest. Made from the blankets he had been tangled in earlier, some fluffy towels, acromantula silk robes and things, and what looked to be, “Is that one of my robes?”

Peering down at Harry, he looked embarrassed, and was flushed.

“It smelled nice s’all,” he mutter petulantly.

“Hmm yes, you seem to consider me Troupe.”

“Troupe?”

“A gathering of elves is a troupe. But Black family elves have special Troupes, think of werewolf packs. That is what a Troupe is. Family.”

He stares at me for a moment before looking at his nest, “But what does that have to do with me using your cloak in my... nest?”

“Black elves need to have the smell of each member of their Troupe in their nests, if any foreign smell is in it, the entire nest will be destroyed and you would have to restart.”

He looked seriously pained at having to restart his nest. “Ok... but why would you be considered Troupe?”

I hesitate, wondering how far he’d gotten in the book, “You seem to have... imprinted on me.” 

“But... but... why you!?”

“Because after you came into your inheritance, I was the first to show you kindness and assistance.”

“Is that why I trusted you to go to Gringotts for me?”

“Pardon?”

“I was thinking after you left. I just signed the paper and let you go to Gringotts for me. Why would I do that? No offense, but I hated you for a long long time. It made no sense. But now it does.”

I clear my throat, “Yes well, now it seems that I have become your mentor. A father figure of sorts.”

“I know, I read the section you marked out.”

I raisean eyebrow, “Really, the whole section? I guess I’ll just have to assign more-“

“No no no. I didn’t really read it, just skimmed it! You don’t have to assign more yet.”

I smirk and put him down on his nest, “Get some rest, you need it for tomorrow. Remember, we’ll be heading out to Gringotts at one o’clock sharp, so be ready by then.”

He wriggles around and pulls up one of the bigger blankets, and my cloak, over him, “I will be.”

I stop at the door before walking out, staring at him. All that was left above the blankets was his mop of unruly black hair. If I smiled gently before closing the door, no one will ever know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four, yayyyyyy! And this one is longer! (That’s because I accidentally copy/pasted two chapters, but it works soooooo)


	5. Chapter 5

**Harry’s POV**

We’re on the stairs of the Diagon branch of the Gringotts bank.

And Sev is not happy with me.

“You should be in bed. Not gallivanting around Gringotts.”

“I am not ‘gallivanting around Gringotts’. I am here for a very specific reason, and I will complete it, and be on my way.”

He grumbles, “You shouldn’t even be out of bed. You shouldn’t be _able_ to be out of bed.”

I sigh, “Trust me Sev, this isn’t my first time being up and about after a beating like that one.”

He gives me an odd look.

“What?”

“That’s not something that people usually say so casually.”

I stutter a bit, “Um- well I-“ 

I straighten myself up a bit and firm up my voice, “It’s casual for me. I’ve dealt with it all my life, it’s not a big deal anymore.”

At that, he goes silent, and we walk into the bank.

~*~

Once in the bank, I go straight to Ragnok. 

Bowing low, with a smile that covers my teeth, I say, “I wish to speak to Account Manager Griphook about some discrepancies.”

I raise my head slightly, and smirk at the look in his face.

Despite his shock, he remains business-like, “Two drops of blood and your account key.”

Handing over the key, I prick my finger and let two drops fall into the bowl on his desk.

“Ahh yes, come Mr Potter, Master Snape, Griphook had been waiting.”

We walk down some twisting corridors until we come to a thick wooden door.

Ragnok raps his knuckles against the door three times in rapid succession. 

“Enter,” Griphook calls.

We enter and I immediately bow so low that my hair brushes the floor. 

“Greetings Account Manager Griphook, I am here to discuss business with my accounts, how do you fair.”

While I had been in school, between huge life-changing events, I had researched the Goblins and their customs. It lead to many late nights of sneaking into the Restricted Section. 

Looking slightly surprised, Griphook stood and walked in front of me, “I fair well. Rise, there is no reason for you to bow to me, young Potter.” 

I had also gotten the occasional lesson on proper Goblin etiquette from Griphook. 

I rise and say, “Thank you Account Manager Griphook. I bid you call me Harry.”

He smiles and small smile, “Then I bid you call me Griphook.”

I nod, “It would be my greatest honor, Griphook.”

Clearing my throat, I say, “Now that we’re past formalities. I have come here today, as per your request. What seems to be the issue?”

“Now Harry,” he smiles gently. “You don’t have to be so formal with me. It’s nice to see that your lessons stuck.”

I run the back of my neck sheepishly, “Sorry Griphook, habit you know?”

“Ahem,” we both turn around and see Severus staring at us.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but we have business to discuss.”

“Ah yes,” Griphook goes and sits at his desk, pushing three pieces of parchment forward. “Seven drops a piece.”

I prick my finger with the knife he offered me before quickly dropping exactly seven drops onto each parchment. 

They glow a bright white and words quickly scrawl across them. 

“The one on the left is your birth certificate, the one in the middle is your inheritance, and the one on the right is your family tree.”

I pick up the parchment with my inheritance and start to look it over.

**_Harry James Potter_ **

**_Inherited Creature: Black Family Elf_ **

**_Inherited Mate: None or Unknown_ **

**_Inherited Vaults:_ **

**_687, Potter Family Vault  
696, Potter School Fund  
711, Black Family Vault  
918, Peverall Family Vault  
106, Fleamont Family Vault   
716, Prewett Excess Vault_ **

**_Inherited Properties:_ **

_**Potter Manor** _  
_**12 Grimmauld Place** _  
_**Godric’s Hollow Cottage (Destroyed)** _  
_**Black Manor** _  
_**Potter House** _  
_**Potter Villa** _  
_**Black House** _  
_**Unplottable Black/Potter Island** _  
_**Uplottable Peverall Residence** _

_**Other: None** _

I stare. And stare more. And some more. 

“I-“ I look up at Griphook. “Where- when did I-?”

He gives me a reassuring smile, “I believe you were unaware of your properties and such?”

I just nod, dumbfounded.

“There are a few more that are too small to be mentioned there, those are only the major ones.”

“I- more?”

Severus reaches over my shoulder and takes it from me gently.

“How about you take a look at your birth certificate Harry?”

“Uh- yeah. Ok.”

I lean forward from where I’m sitting and grab it off his desk. I read down to the fourth line and drop the scroll.

“Harry? Harry what’s wrong?” Severus asks.

I whirl around, drawing my wand.

“Did you know?” I say, deadly quiet.

“Harry wha-“ 

I cut him off, shoving the scroll in his face, “Did. You. Know.”

The first four lines read:

_**Full Name: Harry James Potter** _  
_**Mothers Full Name: Lily J Potter neé Evans** _  
_**Fathers Full Name: Severus Tobias Snape** _  
_**Blood Adopted by: James Fleamont Potter** _

I can see the exact moment that he reads it, his eyes widening and his jaw going slightly slack. 

He looks back at me, “Harry-“  
  
My magic flares out around me, throwing things around the room and smashing everything it can.

I barely notice my feet come off the floor as I drive him to the wall, “DID YOU KNOW!”

He looks me straight on the eyes and speaks calmly, “No Harry, I didn’t know.” 

I look straight into his eyes and myself reflected in them, my hair wild and flaring around my face, my eyes glowing with strange black veins running through them. 

And I feel my heart shatter, everything I’ve ever known tumbling into the black abyss. 

I am filled with a deep aching sadness, so intense that it’s numb. It fills every inch of me, swallowing me up.

And I collapse, sobbing, crying the blackish liquid and more pouring out of my nose. 

—

Severus’ POV

Harry collapses into my arms, and I find myself carrying him as he sobs.

The magic that was swirling around calms, and gently sets down anything that was in the air.

I cast a cleaning charm over Harry as Griphook waves his hand and everything returns to how it was, “Are you alright, Master Snape?”

“Yes, thank you. I was wondering.” I hesitate, “Did you.... was it... we’re you aware... that I was- am- Harry’s....” 

He looks at me, and seems slightly sympathetic, “I knew that Harry was blood adopted by James, but I was not privy to who his birth father was.”

“But how am I... I mean how is Harry...?”

“Your son? Well, when two wizards love each other very much,” he smirked.

If I hadn’t been a spy for so long, I certainly would’ve flushed, “Yes yes, I know that bit. But Lily and I, that is to say, we never... after Hogwarts we didn’t, didn’t even speak. We parted on quite bad terms, to say the least.”

Now he looked speculative, “You never, *ahem*, engaged it coitus?”

At this point, spying be damned, I’m sure I’m bright red. “Once when we were young.... we had been curious children....”

“Yes well, witches, such as Mrs Potter, with extremely powerful magic often do not reproduce in war times. Their magic will not let them. As a result, any pregnancies are magically held off for as long as possible. It cannot be held off forever, though. Which resulted in Harry being born many years after he was technically conceived.”

Of course, I had know this, but it hadn’t occurred to me that it would apply to Lily, “Lily must have been very very powerful for it to be able to be held off for so long. So Harry is really my... son?”

“Indeed. But he was blood adopted minutes after he was born, and as such, no one knew he was yours.”

“Is it possible that I can see what he would’ve looked like? If it’s agreeable to Harry of course.”

“There is a ritual, but it is not cheap, and it is not for the injured.”

I look at Harry and see that he has fallen asleep, “I think I that when he wakes up, he will wish to see the rest of his birth certificate, and then we will go home. We will, of course, return once Harry is healed, and see what he wants to do about the ritual and his investments and such.”

Griphook smiles somewhat wickedly, “I have nothing to do for the rest of today, so how about we talk until Harry wakes?”

“That would be a splendid idea. In fact, I was just I seeing how Harry is so well acquainted with Goblin greetings?”

“Ah, yes. Imagine my surprise when young Harry Potter shows up, asking to be taught about Goblins....”

~*~

Harry’s POV

I’m on the edge of consciousness when I hear my name being called. On reflex I start sitting up and murmur, “Cmin’ Ucl Vrn.”

Two strong hands push me back down onto the couch, and I panic for a moment before I open my eyes and see Severus looking at me with slight concern in his eyes. 

“You are not allowed up yet Harry. Here,” he hands me a glass of water. “Drink slowly. Once you’re feeling better we’ll finish looking at your birth certificate and then we are going back to Grimmauld. You need rest and more potions.” 

The way he says it leaves no room for argument, so I take small sips and let the events of before I passed out wash over me. 

“Um Severus?” He raises an eyebrow.   
“I’m sorry, about- about earlier. I didn’t mean to-“ he cuts me off.

“You were given quite the shock after already being severely injured and magically drained. You have nothing to apologize for, as it could have gone much worse.”

I nod reluctantly, “Alright, if you say so.” I look at Griphook. “May I have my birth certificate please?”

“Are you sure Harry? I don’t want you to strain yourself...”

“I’ll be alright, the sooner this is over with, the better.”

He hands it over and I scan the sheet.

_**Full Name: Harry James Potter** _  
_**Mothers Full Name: Lily J Potter neé Evans** _  
_**Fathers Full Name: Severus Tobias Snape** _  
_**Blood Adopted by: James Fleamont Potter** _

My heart does a little stutter, and the ache in my chest increases, but I continue on. 

_**Mate: None or Unknown** _  
_**Godmother(s): Alice Longbottom (Clinically Insane)** _  
_**Godfather(s): Frank Longbottom (Clinically Insane) and Sirius Orion Black** _

_**Recurring Potions, Charms, Spells, or Blocks:** _

_**Potions:** _

_**Longterm Loyalty Potion: Administered every six (6) months; Keyed to Albus Percival Wulfric Br** **ain Dumbledore;** _  
_**(A/N: This won’t be Dumbledore bashing I don’t think, but he won’t be the ultimate good guy either.)** _  
_**Ages 11-13, 15-17** _

_**Felix Felicis: Administered once (1 time) a year; By A.P.W.B.D;** _ _**Ages 11-16** _

_**Dreamless Sleep: Administered two or more (2) times a week; By Harry James Potter;** _ _**Ages 13-17** _

_**Charms:** _

**_Six (6) Sets of Glamours: Reapplied once (1 time) per week; By H.J.P;_ ** **_Ages 12-18_ **

**_Patronus Charm: Cast Often_ **

**_Various Locking and Silencing Charms: Cast Often_ **

**_Spells:_ **

_**Minor Healing Spells, Major Healing Spells, Anti-apparation wards, Various Silencing Spells, Various Locking Spells: Cast often** _

_**Blocks:** _

_**Temporary Inheritance Block: Set to last until 18th birthday; Applied by A.P.W.B.D** _

**Temporary Mate Block: Set to last until 19th birthday; Applied by A.P.W.B.D**

I sat for a moment, stunned before I whipped my head to Griphook **.**

“I want them all gone. Every block, potion, and spell he ever put on me. I want them all gone, down to the residue.”

He smiled dangerously, “You can’t go through with any rituals until you are completely healed.”

”Pleas-“ I start.

”No,” he says firmly. “Now, we have one last thing to do. Repeat after me, I Harry Potter,”

“I Harry Potter,”

“Do now call upon Lady Magic,”

“Do now call upon Lady Magic,”

“To allow me my post and parcels,”

“To allow me my post and parcels,”

“Henceforth and forevermore,”

“Henceforth and forevermore,”

“So I wish it, so mote be it.”

“So I wish it, so mote be it.”

A bit of light forest green swishes around my robes, and I stare at it in awe.

“Griphook, what was that?”

“That means that you will now get all your owls, unless you you want a Post Box of course.” 

“A post box?”

“All of your letters and parcels will appear in the box, and be checked for dangerous spells. Said spells will then be removed. For a few extra galleons you can get a box with separate compartments. One for friends, who you’ll have to key in, one for newspaper and media and such, one for first time senders, one for previously dangerous letters, and an incinerator, for any letters or parcels deemed too dangerous. You will get a list of who those were from, and what they entailed. Your box will glow silver for normal mail, red for urgent, green for dangerous but not incinerated, and orange for incinerated.” 

“And how much will that cost?”

“9 galleons a month, 12 for the compartments,” he smiled greedily.

He may be my friend, but he’s still a Goblin, and Goblins are greedy little buggers. 

“You really know how to charge an arm and a leg. Alright, I’ll take the 12 galleon post box. At least I won’t have to worry about being cursed by owl.”

“Indeed,” Severus says. “Now I must insist that we leave. You may return another day. You need rest and to start the potions regime I have set for you along with the meal plan.”

“But-“

“No buts,” He said firmly. “Griphook, thank you for your assistance today, but we must take our leave.”

“I’m always happy to help.”

“May your vaults overflow with gold,” I say wearily.

“And may your enemies fall at your feet.”

“Oh trust me,” I mutter. “They will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to the author that thought of the post box. It’s not my own original idea. Isn’t this a nice, long chapter? I thought so...
> 
> Also, I’m so immature.... ‘coitus’ lmao.


	6. Chapter 6

Snape’s POV

I apparate us straight to the den at Grimmauld and turn my best glare at him, “You are to go take your potions, go to bed, and sleep until I wake you up to eat.”

“I need to-“ 

“No,” I interrupted. “What you need to do is take your potions and lie down before you collapse.”

“But-“ He tried to start again.

I sigh and grab him under his knees, lifting him up bridal style. He squeaks and wraps his arms around my neck.

“I can walk you know,” he tries to glare at me, but the flush on his cheeks takes away the malice. 

“I know, but you were refusing to do as you were told. So, here we are.”

While we talk I take us to Harry’s bedroom. 

I open the door and see that his nest had gotten much bigger, “Is this where you want your nest to be Harry? We could always find someplace darker and smaller....”

He shakes his head, “This is where I want it to be. This might sound weird, but it smells like family.”

I set him down, “That would be the stasis charms. I set up a charm on the room, everything in your nest has its smell preserved.”

He looks at me, and then at the nest, then back at me, “Thank you. So much.”

He walks towards the bed his nest was on, and after a moment of thinking, he vanished the bed frame. 

Now he’s shrinking everything in the room, except a few outfits from the closet, and packing it away into a trunk.

Then he extends the mattress so that it takes up the entire floor of the room, stopping it just inches short of my feet.

He shuffles around some blankets and things before settling down in the middle and covering himself completely.

Poking out his head, he looks at me, “I, Harry Potter, formally allow Severus Snape entrance unto my nest, with the exception that if I feel that he is a threat in any way, he shall not be allowed. So I wish it, so mote be it.”

A breeze of magic blows lightly through the room, ruffling my robes and caressing the outskirts of his nest. 

“Harry, you didn’t have to... I mean, you’re not required to-“ 

He sends me a quelling look, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to. I’m not sure why, cause I’m still royally pissed at you, but I just felt like I needed to let you in.”

I take a hesitant step forward, “Would you, I mean, would it be alright if...?”

He pats the nest next to him and I sit down gently.

“We have a lot to talk about, eh Sevvy?” He says with a sad chuckle.

**Harry’s POV**

I snuggle down into my nest more and watch him for a moment. 

“Did you know you were my father?”

He shakes his head, “I had no clue. I, along with everyone else, thought that you were James’ son.”

My mind is till spinning from the shock of it all, “So did you and mum have an affair? Or was her marrying James a coverup for you two? Or-“

“No no no no no, nothing like that. If a witch has.... intercourse in times of war, the witches magic will preserve the sperm and egg until they are safe to be pregnant. This war lasted a ridiculously long time, and her magic couldn’t hold off forever. In fact, she must have been extremely powerful to have lasted as long as she did.”

“So... you and my mum... were together when you were young?”

He scoffs, “Of course not. Lily was my best friend, and nothing more. But we were both extremely... curious. And we decided that our first times should be with each other, and viola.”

“So you and my mum fucked when you were young, and her magic decided that it was too dangerous to be pregnant, so held it off as long as it could. And then when I was born they realized that I wasn’t da- James’ and he blood adopted me?”

I look over at him and he’s blushing slightly, “Yes well that’s one way to put it.”

“Ok then. Alright. Wow. That’s.... really weird. Magic is so over complicated   
sometimes. Could you bring me my post box? It showed up by the door a minute ago.”

He stares at me for a moment, “....Alright.”

He grabs it and hands it to me, “Thank you. I have to key in the Weasleys, the Grangers, the Lovegoods, you, Blaise, Neville, and a few others to the friends compartment. Gringotts will also go into the friends compartment. Anything from the ministry will get sorted as it comes. And I’m pretty sure that’s all I have to do, the rest will sort itself out.”

“That’s it? No more magical outbursts or angry shouting? Just “Huh weird.” And moving on?”

I think for a moment. My chest still aches, and my heart is still heavy, and my arms and legs still feel numb, but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.

So, I look him straight in the eye, “When I was 11, snake face tried to kill me. And when I was 12, and 13 and 14. I was- and am- a celebrity because my parents died and I didn’t. I competed in a tournament that I didn’t enter in my fourth year, and watched Cedric Diggory die and worm tail cut off his arm to resurrect lord baldy. And I helped an escaped convict get away from soul sucking monsters because it turns out he was my godfather and only living family. I watched him die a year later. I dealt with the manipulations of a batty old man and disappeared in my 7th year to kill horcruxes, which had dark magic so powerful that we had to take turns wearing it so that we didn’t try to kill each other. Then I fought in a war and watched friends, family, and strangers die, killed people and Voldemort because some prophecy said so. I’m used to magic fucking up my life, this isn’t the first or last time it’ll happen.”

He just looks at me before wrapping his arms around me, “I am truly sorry that I helped make your life miserable since you came to Hogwarts.”

I stiffen, unsure and more used to hugs that aren’t from ‘Mione or the Weasleys, “Um, it’s ok. Shouldn’t I be taking my potions?”

He lets go and stands, “Yes, yes. I’ll go grab them. You have six potions to take and then you need to eat something and sleep.”

I nod, “Alright.”

As soon as he’s gone I let out a sob, and another, until tears are streaming down my face. I burrow into my nest and curl up in a ball in the middle, trying to take deep breaths. 

My eyes close and my breathing deepens. I try to clear my mind using the few Occlumency techniques I had picked up over the years. But really, I just took everything I was feeling, shoved it into a box and hid it in the darkest recess of my mind. Never to be seen again.

I hear him open the door, and sigh once he sees where I am. “Harry, you need to take your potions, and then eat. Would you like a Dreamless Sleep?”

I take the first two potions and then shake my head vigorously, “No Dreamless Sleep for me. I was a bit of an addict, and I only got off just before my birthday.”

He nods, “Alright, finish your potions and food and then go to sleep.”

I down the last potions and inhale the sandwich, “Would you, um, would you mind staying? In this room I mean. You don’t have to if you don’t want, of course. And if you’re not comfortable you don’t have to be in the nest, just, you know, over there. I mean-“

“Yes I’ll stay here, Harry,” He sits down next to me.

“Thank you Sev,” I say as my eyes droop.

I think he smiles softly, but it might have just been my sleep addled mind, “You’re welcome, Harry.”

And I drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my last prewritten chapter, so I probably won’t update it for four or five days. Hope you enjoyed chapterrrrrrrrr six!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Tuesday, December 22nd 2020
> 
> So I know that this is supposed to be the chapter summary, but I have maaajor writer’s block and absolutely zero clue what to write for the next chapter. Any suggestions or recommendations or anything you guys want to see?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> -Descriptions of blood  
> -Panic attacks  
> -Etc. etc.
> 
> Also, look at me! I just wrote a whole chapter in two hours! Yayyyyy!

_*A Dream*_

It was dark. 

Not middle-of-the-night dark, but inside-a-black-hole dark.

All he could hear was the sound of his shoes _thwap-thwap-thwapping_ against the invisible concrete and his own panting breaths.

There’s a beam of light in the distance, and relief washes through him like a cool wave. 

But as he gets closer, there seems to be something in the light... a person maybe?

When he can finally make out the persons features, his steps falter and he stumbles back in shock.

It was Colin Creevy, eyes blank and clothes covered in blood. 

A few feet away another beam of light appeared, and in it stood Percy Weasley, face the blankest he’d ever seen and one arm cut off. The stump oozing and spitting blood, covering him.

The next was Cedric Diggory, looking largely fine, except that he had a hole in his chest were he’d been hit with the killing curse.

On and on the lights went...

_CedricDiggoryColinCreeveyPercyWeaslyDobbyRemusLupinNymphadoraTonksSiriusBlackLavenderBrownAlastorMoodyAlbusDumbledoreAmeliaBonesFloreanFlortescueHedwig..._

The list kept going and going, running through his head as he ran to get away from the dead people that plagued him.

He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk he could not see, his glasses flying and his face smashing into the ground.

_Severus Snape_

The name whispers through his head.

He looked up, and found that he could see well enough without glasses.

He could see the terrifying sight of Severus Snape himself, glaring down at him, blood gushing from the punctures in his neck and drenching his robes.

“You failed me Harry,” his voice is watery, like he was trying to talk while gurgling.

“You watched me die, watched all of us die, and did nothing.”

Then they were all there, each pointing an accusing finger at him.

“You could have ended our suffering, but instead you were selfish.”

He tried to speak, tried to convey his message to them. _I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for you to die, any of you!_

But his throat was dry and his mouth glued shut. Tears burned down his face. 

“You do not deserve to live _Potter_ , not when we had to die for _your_ mistakes,” Severus spits out ‘your’ with so much venom that he flinches.

“You are a disgrace to the Potter name, you aren’t fit to be heir Black.”

“We never liked you Harry, we just used you to complete the prophecy. Now you’re _useless_.” Severus raises the wand that had suddenly appeared, and points it straight at Harry’s heart, “The Boy Who Lived... come to die.”

And Sev’s eyes glow red, his face breaking into an insane smile and turning snakelike, a painfully familiar green light shooting from the end of the wand.

Straight into Harry’s heart, ending him.

_*End of the Dream*_

**Harry’s POV**

I jump awake with a scream that tore its way from my throat. 

I curl my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around them as I sob, deep, soul-wracking sobs.

Tears are running down my face, and my mind is full of panic. I vaguely know that I’m under some blankets, and it makes me feel claustrophobic, so I kick and claw my way out of them.

The cool air of the room hits my face, drying the newest wave of tears.

The door creaks open and I feel rather than hear someone talking.

A hand rests on my shoulder and I flinch away, screaming.

“DON’T TOUCH ME I’M SORRY! DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME! Please, _please_ d-don’t t-touch me,” I break down into sobs, curling even further into myself. 

My fingers work their way into my hair and yank hard, the pain pulling my back to the present enough to see Severus’s concerned face a few feet away.

My breathing stills for a moment, before I let out a shrill, ear piercing scream and scramble to put my back to the wall as fast as I can go.

“NO! NO I DIDN’T MEAN TO! I DIDN’T MEANNN TOOOO! I DIDN’T MEAN TO LET YOU DIE! I’M SORRY DON’T HURT ME I’M SORRY DON’T HURT ME! I’m sorreeee ple-hee-heese don’t hu- _hurt_ meheehee.”

I don’t know how long I sit there, bawling, with tears and snot and spit running down my face. 

But eventually my breathing evens out, and my cries turn into sniffles, and I calm down enough that I can tell that Severus is sitting a few feet away.

“Harry?” He says gently. “Can I come closer?”

I think about it before reluctantly nodding.

He shuffles forward before he’s sitting right in front of me, “Is it alright if I touch you, Harry? I’d like to clean you up.”

I fidget, before shakily replying, “Alr’gh.”

He starts by touching my arm lightly, and when I tense he pauses, “I won’t hurt you, Harry. I’ll never hurt you. I’m here to help, I just want to clean you up. It’s alright, there you go.”

My arm eases out of its position, fingers stiff from being entwined in my hair for so long.

He runs a cool cloth along the clammy skin, wiping off the sweat. He keeps the cloth continually moving in calm, reassuring strokes, whispering all the while.

“I’m going to do your other arm now, ok? No? That’s fine, we’ll do your leg instead, how’s that.”

Luckily I was wearing sleep shorts and a tee shirt, or this would’ve been much harder than it already was.

He carefully straightens my leg before he starts wiping it down, never going above the knee.

After he’s done both legs, he stops, “Is it alright if you turn over now? I want to do your other arm.”

I nod and sit up, holding out my arm and keeping my gaze averted.

As he cleans it off he says, “You know there’s nothing to be ashamed of. A lot has happened to you in your life, and this is perfectly natural. Is it okay if I wipe off under your shirt? I don’t want to do anything your not completely comfortable with.”

I hesitate, but nod and he gingerly peels off my shirt.

I hear him suck in a breath, and belatedly realize that my glamours are down. I start to panic, my vision clouding with grey fog at the edges and my mind swirling with what he must think of me and how vulnerable I now am.

He grabs my hand and places it on his chest.

“Harry,” he says, quiet but firm. “Do you feel my heartbeat? Good. And my breathing? Perfect. Breath how I breath. In 2,3,4... hold it.... out 6,7,8. There you go. Keep your breathing steady and calm. Focus on your breathing and the feeling of the cloth slowly gliding over your skin.”

He lets go, but I keep my hand there. With the first swipe of the cloth on my chest I stiffen, and my breathing starts to speed up again, but he talks me through what he’s doing. 

“That’s just me Harry. With the cloth, you remember the cloth don’t you? It’s just cleaning you up and cooling you down, not hurting you. Never hurting. See?” He gives an exceedingly gentle swipe on my arm, “Nice and soft and cool. Helping, not hurting.”

I relax and he goes back to my chest. My breathing stutters a bit, but he keeps going until he’s wiped off everything he can reach. 

“Can you turn around now please? I’d like to do your back. Then I’ll do your face and we’ll be all done, ok?”

I shake my head, “Not my back. Never show your back, freak, it’s disgusting.”

I had had that pounded into my head hundreds of times, and in this state, it was the only thing I knew to say.

“Are you sure Harry? It’ll only be quick, a few swipes.”

I shake my head again, “Never show your back, freak, or there’ll be consequences. Never show your back, freak, never show your back. It’s disgusting boy, it’s ugly and terrible. Never show your back, freak...”

I start rocking back and forth, repeating those phrases.

He slowly moves forwards and wraps his arms around me. “Hey hey hey, it’s alright. I’m sorry I pushed, I didn’t mean it. It’s alright I’ll just wipe off your face and then I’ll keep doing your arms, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

I stop rocking, but my body shakes as he turns my face towards him.

When I see his eyes, I almost start crying again. 

They were so full of kindness and caring, so compassionate and loving. So focused on making sure I’m completely clean. All for a me, a pathetic mess.

I don’t realize I’m crying again until he lifts up my chin and wipes them away.

His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a smile, “Hey now, what’s that for? Everything’s all right.”

My bottom lip quivers, and tears stream faster down my face.

I scrub at them angrily and start talking, “Yo-you were dead. A-all of you. I s-saw th-them dead a-gain. And you-you sai-said that I... that I... th-th-that I...”

He rubs gentle circles on my arm, “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s not true, whatever it is, it’s not true. You don’t have to tell me. Shhhhhhhh, that’s right, it’s all okay.”

I bury my face in his chest, and pull my arms and legs into his lap, quietly weeping.

We stay like that until morning, him whispering reassuring words, and me listening to his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo.... that happened. I needed them to have a chapter where they bond, and so this was born! Sev and Harry are not happy with me, but oh well XD. Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uhm, this chapter sucks. Sorry. I had no inspiration and just needed to get one out.

**Sev’s POV**

I had been in the basement potions lab, checking on some simple brews when I heard Harry’s scream.

I gad cast a quick staisis charm and ran upstairs. 

As soon as I had opened the door and seen him, I knew what was happening. So I accioed a flannel and a bowl of cold water. 

It had taken hours, but he had eventually calmed and fallen asleep. 

Now, he’s asleep in my lap, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.

I shift and go to move him off of me, but he whimpers and holds me close in his sleep. 

Sighing, I shift just enough to be comfortable and move us to the middle of the nest instead of against the wall. 

I move around some of the blankets and things, creating a cradle that holds him in place and keeps him warm. 

Then I move a few other blankets to cover myself, and settle in to make sure Harry sleeps

—

**Harry’s POV**

My eyelids feel like someone taped sandpaper to the insides of them. My face feels swollen and the muscles in my arms and legs are stiff. 

I’m curled into a small ball and my head is pounding. 

The memories of last night slam around in my head and I cringe at the thought that _Severus knows- I mean everyone has nightmares from the war, but he isn’t stupid, he’ll **know** -_

I jump when a hand settles onto my back, “Harry? Are you alright?”

My breathing is as fast as a racehorse, panic washing over me as I realize _I’m weak, and he knows, no one is supposed to know, I’m supposed to be strong, I’m the **Saviour**_

“I, uhm, I’m s-sorry that I woke you last night and t-that you had to see that. I’m j-just gonna-“ I try to stand, only to wobble and almost fall.

He stands up too, and steadies me with a hand, “Harry...” His voice is soft, filled with /pity/.

I shrug him off, “I’m f-fine. And sorr-y.”

It’s hard to force the words out of my throat, constricted as it is. Usually after nights like that one I sleep till noon and don’t talk for days. 

Stumbling out of the room, I head to the bathroom and turn on the shower, my hands shaking.

I turn it as hot as it can go and sit on at the bottom. Letting the warmth wash over me and sooth my aching muscles.

I wandlessly accio my wand and cast a silencing charm. 

Once I’m sure that it’s up and the door is spelled shut, I crawl under the spray, curl up, and start crying.

I cry because I feel like absolute dogshit, I cry because I know that everything that was said in that dream is true, I cry because I showed weakness in front of someone who I see everyday and someone who I _respected_ and who respected _me,_ or at least, had anyway.

I cry for all of the lives lost in a meaningless war. For all of those injured and broken and whose lives were destroyed. For anyone who got hurt in any way.

I cry for the ache in my chest that never seems to dull. And most of all, I cry for Sev. He must hate living in the same house as me, sharing the same table, eating the same food...

Something touches my arm and I let out a short scream, “What in the bloody fucking hell?!”

A plant is touching my arm, as if comforting me. 

I know of about two plants that aren’t in the greenhouse, a fern in the bathroom by my room (the one I’m in now), and a cactus in the kitchen. As far as I know, everything else is fake. 

But why is the plant touching me? It’s not a magical fern, it’s just a plain old muggle fern. 

I slowly reach out and poke the fern with one finger. It shakes its leaves and wraps around the finger like it’s saying _quit that, would you?_

Completely distracted from my earlier breakdown, I turn off the shower and spell myself dry.

I step out of the tub and look down at the fern that seemed determined on climbing up my shoulders. 

“What are you-? Stop that!”

“Sorry.” I hear a very small voice say.

I stop putting on my trousers and look around the room. Then I turn and look at the plant. 

_Did that fern just... It’s too early and I’m too exhausted for this bullshite._

I throw on my shirt and grab my wand, casting a quick finite incantatem.

The stupid plant didn’t want me to leave so I grab the small flower pot it’s in and take it with me.

I peek into my room and see that Sev isn’t there, _Good I don’t want to see him yet._

I start to walk in but the goddamn plant won’t let me go through the door. So I try to just put the plant down but it wraps around my arms and hands. 

I stop and look down at it incredulously, “Could you just go back to them plant in the bathroom that I forget to water?”

It turns in it’s pot and I can see that there’s a smily face in what looks like sharpie drawn on it, “No.” 

_.....What in the bloody-_ I stumble backwards and release it, but the vines it has on my arms keep it from hitting the floor.

I, however, have nothing holding me up, and crash into a vase before hitting the floor with my arse.

“You stupid plant! What is wrong with you?? Why are you like this?! I don’t- I don’t understand why this always happens to me!”

“Harry....?”

My palm hits my hand before I even know what I’m doing, _WHY. Just WHY._

I clear my throat and spell myself standing, “Hello, Severus. Everything is fine...”

He looks skeptical, “Really? So you weren’t yelling about plants and you didn’t break a vase?”

I turn around and hold out my arms, “Can you get rid of this?”

He reaches out to grab it, and it hisses at him and digs into my arm tighter. 

“Uh, where did you get it?”

“It’s the bathroom fern.”

“The dead one?”

“It wasn’t dead! It was supposed to be that color!”

He sneers at me, “Of course. Are you sure it’s the same one? I don’t recall it being so magical or... clingy.”

I give him my best level stare, “I am one hundred and fifty percent sure. I was in the shower, when it latches into me. There are no other plants inside the house except Mr. Prickles so-“

“Mr. Prickles?”

I flush slightly, but continue anyway,  
“The cactus in the kitchen. So it must be that one. Now, can you please explain why a supposedly _muggle_ plant is ATTACHED TO MY ARMS?”

“It has reacted to your magic and is now, basically, your pet.”

“Uhm.... what if I don’t, exactly, want it?”

He smirks, “Too bad.”

I blink twice before shouting, “KREACHER!”

There’s a soft _pop_ and he’s standing in front of me looking exasperated. 

“What has you done now, Master Harry?”

“Just Harry, Kreacher. And _I_ haven’t done anything, it’s this plant,” I wave my arms in his direction. “It won’t get off, can you help?”

Kreacher positively lights up when I show it to him, and he claps his hands excitedly, “Master Harry has found his family plant!”

“... Family plant?”

He nods, ears flapping, “Blacks with creature inheritances get a family plant! The plant is taking on a part of the personality of each family member and gets more words and is becoming its own plant person. All the family plants of past Blacks are kept in the second greenhouse.”

“We have more than one... a plant... person? That’s... You know what? Ok. That’s fine. I have other things to worry about. I just... does anyone else feel like too much is happening in too little time? If this was a book I’d want to have words with the author.” **_*WiNk wOnK*_**

Severus stares at me, “If this was a book... you’d... Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” I say, trying to pry off the plant. “Kreacher, can you...?”

He snaps his fingers and the plant is untangled from me and floating a few feet away, looking dejected. 

“Thank you. Could you take it to the second greenhouse for me? I’ll visit it every day, I swear.”

“Of course, Master Harry. But youse is supposed to name it.”

“Uhm, Ferny? Leafy? Plant... man?” I stop and actually think for a moment. 

“How about Alex? I’m not sure if it’s a girl or a boy, so it can be sort for Alexander or Alexis.”

“It is not a proper name, Master Harry, but if you insist.”

“Just Harry, Kreacher,” I sigh. 

He replies with a quick, “Yes, Master Harry,” and pops away.

Shaking my head, I turn to Severus. 

“Good morning,” I say as I walk past him. 

He grabs my arm, “You cannot keep packing it all away, Harry. One of these days you’re going to blow your top, and it won’t be pretty.”

Shaking him off, I keep walking, “I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about, Sev. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m making breakfast.”

“Harry you need to-“

“Take my potions, I know.”

“I was going to say that you need to-“

“I’m already on my way to make breakfast, Sev”

As I walk away, I hear him muttering, “If that’s how you want to be, so be it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I’m really sorry. I’ve been shoving too much into each chapter. Sev and Haz and even Kreacher are mad at me for leaving you guys waiting. Also for writing so terribly. And for making them suffer. 🤷 Oh well. Hope you enjoyed I guess.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another rushed chapter, I’m sorry in advance.

**Sev’s POV**

After going to my room for a bit to think up a strategy for the day, I follow my noes to the kitchen where Harry is cooking breakfast.

“You know you don’t have to cook every morning.”

He stiffens and his knuckles go white on the spatula he’s holding.

“I like cooking.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Really? You talk in your sleep you know.”

“Do I really? Never had any complaints before.”

Nodding, I continue, “You do, yes. You talk quite a bit about your life at the Dursley house.”

He gives a noncommittal little hum.

I smirk, “And it just so happens that you used to cook for them, yes? Breakfast and dinner? Eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, pancakes, hash, that sort of thing.”

I step up behind him and peer at the food he’s cooking, “Hmmm. What are you’re making? Eggs; sausage; bacon; toast; pancakes; hash; and is that.... freshly squeezed orange juice? It’s only the two of us Harry, why make so much?”

I whisper directly into his ear, “Do you miss your relatives, tender, loving, care?”

Just as I had hoped, he whirled around and pinned me to the closest wall.

“I suggest you shut you mouth, _Severus_ , because you have no idea what you’re talking about. You have absolutely _no clue_ what I had to deal with in that house. What I was forced to do,” he shudders.

I send him a calculating look, “Actually I’m quite aware. Diagnostic spells get quite specific if you need them to.”

All the blood drains from his face until he’s white as a ghost, “You didn’t.”

His voice is quiet but deadly, and I can see that I’m getting to him.

“Oh, but I did.”

The magic that normally sits just underneath his skin flares up and crushes me to the wall, rendering me unable to move.

“I know every little injury you’ve gotten since you were born, every single cut and scrape,” I lower my voice to a hoarse whisper, “and I could get dates down to the second if I wanted to.”

That seems to be the straw that broke the camels back, “I WILL MURDER YOU, YOU SLIMY BASTARD!!!”

I stare into his eyes, unwavering, “If you have one foot on the past, and one on the future, you’re pissing on the present, Harry. You need to get yourself out of the habits they’ve driven into you before you can do anything else.”

The murderous look on his face doesn’t lessen, but his magic lets me slide down the wall so my feet are touching the floor and he’s manually holding me up.

I soften my voice slightly, “I know that you can’t move on yet, it’s still too fresh in your mind and heart. But you need to get out of the routine they set for you and set your own. They made you wake up early? Sleep in whenever you can. They made you cook dinner? Order in twice a week, and have Kreacher cook for you the rest of the week. They made you stay inside? Spend as much time as you like out in nature, or the garden. Set your own daily or weekly routine and stick to it.”

My feet fall flat on the floor and he backs away from me.

“You...” he points at me. “You- you know _nothing_. The things I’ve seen...” his eyes glaze over for a minute before he refocuses on me.

“Dursley’s or no, I fought a war. I’m a public figure, and public figures don’t have abusive families. Public figures live in cookie-cutter houses with white picket fences with a dog and two-and-a-half kids and a gorgeous wife. Public figure aren’t,” he viciously pokes himself in the chest with his wand, as tears start to stream down his face, “like me. I’m the Boy-Who-Wouldn’t-Bloody-Die, I don’t get to have nightmares and I’m not allowed to have problems beyond what witch I’m supposed to marry.”

His voice cracks and he sounds desperate, “Can’t you _see_ Sev? I’m so _broken_ but I’m not allowed to be, can’t say anything to anyone. And you don’t- can never understand what that’s like.”

While he was in talking, he had backed further and further away, until he was sitting on the floor in the corner.

“You’re quite right. I’ll never understand exactly what you went through. But I do understand what it’s like to live in an... abusive household. My father- Tobias- was not a kind man in any meaning of the word. He despised magic, and despised my mother and I by extension. My only refuge was Hogwarts, and I begged many times to be allowed to stay over the summer. I was 13 when he... when my mother... passed away. And I no longer had any form of protection. When I turned eighteen, I ran as fast and as far as I could.”

I approached where he sat and crouched down, laying a hand in his shoulder, “Harry, I do not pity you, rather I _empathize_. Learn to tell the difference.”

“Now,” I stood and brushed myself off. “I need to make some potions, if you wish to help, you’ll come downstairs and put on an apron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions at all for me? Just comment them. Sorry it’s so short.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize that it seems like Harry is rushing through, but that’s because he is. He’s used to not having much time for things, so he’s rushing through everything as fast as he can. 
> 
> Slight TW, this chapter briefly talks about addiction.

**Harry’s POV**

I watch Severus descend the stairs into the basement, and plop down into the nearest chair. 

Resting my head on my hands, I let my mind wander to the vials of potion hidden around the house. 

Sirius had had multiple stashes where he had hidden his booze, and I had gone through and put all the booze in the pantry, replacing them with a first aide kit of sorts.

In each one there’s a standard healing potion, a minor pain-relieving potion, a bruise cream, a burn salve, and four standard sized vials of Dreamless Sleep.

The longer I think about it, the more I can feel the addiction rampaging through my head.

I _know_ that I don’t need it to live, but a voice in the back of my head is whispering to me; _Take it Harry, down vial after vial like you used to. Come on, don’t you miss full nights of sleep? Come on now, you need it..._

With a start I realize that I had walked to the nearest stash -a hidden compartment behind one of the light fixtures- and was reaching out an arm to open it.

I stumble back in a panic and trip over the chair, barely staying standing.

I run into the backyard and then the first greenhouse full sprint, trying to distance myself from the temptation. 

I find refuge between a miniature Whomping Willow -I should really talk to Neville about some of these plants- and a plant that looked suspiciously like Moondew, and sitting next to it is... Mimbulus mimbletonia?? **(A/n: These are real HP plants and the second one is supposed to be super rare)**

Sitting in the humid greenhouse, surrounded by plants, calms me down and I realize that I still need to go back to Gringotts. 

I slam my head back so it hits the wooden table behind me, “Goddamnit, so much is happening.”

I sit for a few more minutes before deciding that I should probably find greenhouse two.

“Kreacher?”

An immediate, although light, _pop_ right in front of me makes me jump.

“Yes, Master Harry?”

“Plain old Harry will do, Kreacher. And I was wonder if you’d show me the way to the other greenhouse.”

He peers at me for a moment, “Which one?”

“... which one what?”

His ears shake exasperatedly, “Which _other greenhouse_ , Master Harry.”

“There’s.... how many are there?”

“Four on this property. Thirty-six total on all Black properties.”

“Thirty.... thirty-six? Could you bring me a pen, some parchment, and my post box please?”

Kreacher pops off to grab them and I’m left thinking about how utterly useless quills are compared to pens.

I still use parchment for letters, of course, but everything else is on plain paper. It’s just so much more convenient. 

Soon enough Kreacher is once again standing in front of me, and he waits for me to be done writing the letter so that we can get going.  
  
Dear Neville,

Hello! How’ve you been? I know I haven’t responded to any owls or anything lately, but I’ve had... ~~more important~~ ~~very exhausting~~ ~~admittedly a bit too many~~ complicated things going on.

I’ve just found out that I have a lot of greenhouses, about thirty-six of them, and I was wondering if you’d like to come to tea soon and catch up at Grimmauld place and perhaps take a look at some of them?

I’ve only been in one so far, but I’ve seen Mimbulus mimbletonia, Moondew, and a small Whomping Willow.

If you like them, the greenhouses that is, I’d happily help you sort through them and get them properly set up. 

But it’s a mess in there, no one has been in for years.

Anywho, send your gran well wishes for me.

-Harry

I read it over, “What do you think? Is it... acceptable?”

“Yes, Master Harry. Mister Neville will be pleased.”

I smile and grab my postbox, trying, and failing, to figure out how to send it. 

“How... do you... why won’t this stupid thing.... Kreacher do you know how this blasted thing works?”

He nods, ears flapping, “Yous just write who you want it to be sent to in the front, open the box, then put the letter in it.”

I stuff the letter into an envelope, write Neville’s name on the front, open the box and put it in, and then close it.

“Thank you Kreacher,” I say as I stand up and brush off my pant legs. “Now how about we go look at the second greenhouse.”

He grabs my arm and we _pop_ away.

~*~ 

The second greenhouse is much nicer than the first one. Kreacher says that there are self cleaning charms and the like.

We arrive just inside the door, and I’m immediately bombarded by what seems to be hundreds of plants saying hello and asking questions.

“Hello! You must be the youngest Black!” One plant said.

“A visitor?!? My leaves aren’t trimmed!!” Another screeched.

“Hello Kreacher, what year is it now?”

“Kreacher, old boy! How come you haven’t been in for a visit?”

“Hello dear, are you the newest Black? You seem to be an elf, is he an elf Kreacher?”

“An elf! Oh it’s been so long since there’s been and _elf_ in the family! Have you started forming your Troupe?” The plant that says this is twice as tall as I was, and has light red flowers spattered across it’s torso.

“It hasn’t been _that_ long. My ward was an elf.” A stately looking gentlemen (gentleplant??) says proudly.

“They were not,” replies the tall one indignantly. “T _hey_ were a _Veela_. Similar but not the same, I’m afraid.”

He scoffs, “They were a proper Black Water Elf, thank you.”

“More like a proper Black House Elf,” she mutters petulantly.

He starts spluttering, “Excuse me?!?”

She crosses her arms and turns away, “You heard.” 

“Why you-!”

Kreacher clears his throat, “Would you two like to be introduced, or are youse going to bicker?”

They both stop and look towards Kreacher, “Well, it would be nice to talk to someone less stuffy.” 

“Watch yourself, Ursa, you’re the one who insists on acting like a child.”

“I do not-“

“Anyway,” he turns and smiles at me. “My name is Miles, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Uhm, I’m Harry, Harry Potter. Likewise.”

The tall one-Ursa?- sighs happily, “Such a polite little boy! I’m Ursa, and I’m so glad to be meeting you! Just for reference, I’m non-binary, so none of that she/her miss/mrs bullshite.”

Ursa then wraps me up with a bunch of vines, and hugs me close.

“It’s been so long since we’ve talked to someone new! Tell me, what’s been going on out there? Did they really decide to cut down the Forbidden Forest? A snake from there came here a few months ago saying the most horrid things!”

I wriggle, trying to get back to the ground, “I don’t think so, it was still standing tall last time I saw. Did you say snake?”

Ursa giggles, “Yes, a snake! Biggest one I’ve ever seen too, must be at least 20 feet long!”

Miles scoffs, “20 feet... you spout off so many tales you wouldn’t know the truth if it hit you in the face!”

“I am not ‘spouting off tales’ Miles! A few embellishments here and there makes for a good story.”

“I’ll show you a good story you...”

I stop listening to them as Ursa loosens her -their- grip and I slide down. Walking along the aisles, I look for Alex and the ‘20 foot snake’.

Turning another corner, I hear a small voice seemingly talking to nothing.

I look around, and find Alex sitting on the ground, it’s vines swinging around wildly.

“Alex?”

It stops, turns towards me and squeaks, “Elfie! Elfie, elfie, elfie!”

It peers behind me, “Little elfie?”

All my thought processes stall for a moment, “You mean, Kreacher?”

It’s leaves start shaking and it shudders, “Little elfie!”

Kreacher pops in next to me, and raises one eyebrow, “What did you do to make it upset, Master Harry?”

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything! He- she- it just started saying ‘elfie’ and then ‘little elfie’ and I wasn’t sure what to do so I kinda just stood here...?”

Kreacher tsks, “It is trying to bond with youse Master Harry, it cannot speak much yet, it learns by example to start.”

“So... what? I tell it stories and stuff? I can do that.”

And so the next hours are spent telling Alex all about my time in Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, once again, absolute garbage. But everyone wanted me to update (Neville especially, he’s anxious about his upcoming part and wishes I would get on with it already), so here’s an update. Thoughts?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is just a bit of Sev’s backstory because I’m really uninspired. Enjoy! 😘

**Severus’s POV**

Potions has always been my favorite pastime.

Even before Hogwarts, I spent as much time as possible reading about different potions and potions ingredients and how they reacted together and what type of cauldrons and stirrers to use while brewing and the correct phials to store the potions in afterwords.

Then, at Hogwarts, I spent every second of free time studying or practicing potions.

Until, that is, I turned thirteen. And my mother died. After that I threw myself into potions, staying up for weeks at a time to perfect some, brewing nonstop for days for others.

I’m not sure what happened to father. After mother died I stayed at Hogwarts all year long. I hid in closets and stayed at the very bottom left corner of the dungeons, where I had found an abandoned potions lab that I refurbished. 

And then, after I graduated Hogwarts, I went to the Ministry and asked to take the mastery test. They laughed and laughed, but one of the Wizengamot talked to the others, and they gave me a chance. 

I got the third-highest score on record, the only two above me were Merlin and Salazar.

And I officially became the youngest Potions Master in the history of potions.

I married potions, spent all my time creating new ones and altering old ones to work better. 

Then back to Hogwarts I went, I got a teaching job, switched sides and became a spy, and focused on my potions. 

I did what was expected of me, acted how everyone expected, but then Harry came to school. 

And suddenly, I wasn’t acting.

I had always hated Potter, first for tormenting me in my younger years, and then for failing to protect Lily.

Of course, anyone would fail against Voldemort, but still. He had promised that he would protect her.

So, it was no surprise that when his carbon copy showed up, I hated him too.

But then he looked at me with those eyes... his mother’s eyes...

And I couldn’t hate him. As much as I wanted too, I couldn’t. 

He wasn’t a carbon copy of James, how could he be with those eyes?

No, he wasn’t his parents. He was a mix of them both.

So I was back to pretending. I saved him when I could, protected him whenever possible, but ultimately had to act as if I hated him. 

Then the war ended, Voldemort defeated, and I had nowhere to go, no one to talk to.

Because Voldemort might’ve been dead, but so was Dumbledore. And anyone else I had considered anything close to a friend.

And so I came full circle. I moved into Grimmauld Place, and started running a small potions business.

I sell mostly Wolfsbane and basic health potions, but I’ll make almost anything upon request. My only advertisement is word-of-mouth, and no one knows that I’m the one making the potions.

To buy, you simply send an owl addressed to “The Potions Shop”, along with your list of potions and/or ingredients, and it’ll be delivered to you. Either by owl-order or House Elf delivered, or niche we you like.

It’s completely private, first name and address is all that’s required. Along with any payments, sent with the order or left out for the House Elf.

I fear that if anyone knew it was me, they wouldn’t accept it. How could a Death Eater be doing something good, after all?

They would assume it’s poisoned, or defective, or some other rubbish. But I’m a potions master, and I would never degrade my craft like that.

But, I digress. 

So I run my potions shop in secret and relative peace, and, until Harry showed up, was completely cut off from human contact.

I owl-ordered everything I needed, and had no one to send letters to. Although I did, and still do, occasionally talk to the portraits in the attic.

But now Harry is here.

And I am determined to do everything I can to help him heal, mentally and physically.

Even if it’s the last thing I do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha... this chapter is garbage... but you guys deserved a chapter sooooo, here *shoves it at you and runs away*
> 
> Also! Any suggestions on what to include in this story? It doesn’t have to be right after this, it could be set in ten years, or just a cool scenario you want to see.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets some interesting letters...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm, enjoy? 
> 
> *Throws it at you and hides behind the nearest tree*

**Harry’s POV**

After waking up on the ground- Alex’s vines wrapped around one arm and covered in a blanket (thank you Kreacher)- I pick Alex up and set him (her? it?) on my head, where she (he? they?) dutifully tangles it’s (??) vines around my head and the tops of my shoulders to hold on.

I walk to Ursa and Miles, saying hello, “Um, hello, I was just wondering how you knew I was an elf?”

Ursa is the one who answers, “Oh, Atlas is the one who told us. I don’t know how they do it, but you can always ask.”

“Ok, erm, thanks!”

“Of course, dear. Visit often,” they wave me away.

“I, uh, I will!” 

I walk towards the huge plant that Ursa had pointed me towards, and stop in front of it. 

“Hello, I’m Harry. Uhm, Ursa said you’re name is Atlas? And I was just wondering how you knew I was an elf?”

Atlas turns to me and says, “I’m the oldest one here dearie. I know an elf when I see one.”

“Oh... right.” I point at Alex, “This is Alex. He -or she, I’m not really sure- is my family plant. I was wondering if you could tell me how to, uh, take care of it. I mean, do I need to feed it, does he need a special fertilizer, does it not grow in direct sunlight....”

Atlas chuckles and their leaves shake, “Calm little one. Alex will grow well, as long as you provide her with love and attention from your Troupe.”

“Speaking of Troupe, do you know how many are on a Troupe on average?”

“Some Troupes have had as few as three, some as many and twenty. It all depends on the Elf.”

“Oh. Ok. Thank you, Atlas! I have some reading to do, but I’ll come visit you, Miles, and Ursa soon!”

A long leafy hand waves at me, “Goodbye young one. Enjoy your time here, you have much to do off of Black property.”

~*~

After saying goodbye to Ursa and Miles -which mostly consisted of listening to them bicker about one thing or another- I ran back to the house with Alex on my left shoulder.

I rush into the kitchen and look around, realizing that we don’t have anything I wanted to make, “Kreacher! Hi, can you please go to the store and get the stuff for a pork roast, a pumpkin pie, homemade hot chocolate (you know the recipe I mean), and mash?”

Kreacher sighs, “Is that being all, Master Harry? I do not wish to return to the shops a second time.”

“I think so.....” I give him a cheeky grin, “But if you see anything you think I’d like, or that you want, feel free to buy it!”

He huffs and turns away, muttering about “taking wages” and “things _I_ want”. 

“Oh! And call me Harry, Kreacher, no master needed!”

The last thing I hear is a grumbled, “Yes _Master Harry_ “ and then he pops away.

Still grinning, I pen a letter to Fred and George, asking about the shop and all the various Weasleys.

Fred had barely made it out of the war with his life, -and George was missing most of an ear- but the shop was still going strong.

While Fred had made it, Percy hadn’t. They might not’ve liked Percy very much, but he was their brother either way.

Fred had struggled for months afterwards, blaming himself. He had only been a step in front of Percy, and he’d ducked instinctively when an AK had come streaking toward them.

He’d gotten a _bambarda_ to the ribs right after that, and the force behind it had dug a Fred-shaped imprint in the stone floor.

Finishing the letter, I summon my post box and see that I have mail.

I open the first of four letters, which was a letter from the Ministry asking me to come to some unveiling thing. 

The note on top said that it had had several tracking charms and minor compulsions.

Disgusted, I put it in the _To-Be-Incinerated_ pile and move on.

Next is from Andromeda, asking about when I want to see Teddy. Since Tonks and Remus had named me Teddy’s godfather, I was supposed to get custody when they both died. But Andromeda had wanted him, and I hadn’t fought her, as long as I got regular and frequent visitation, I don’t mind.

I write a quick response, asking to see him in two weeks (I _need_ to make this place child friendly) and set it aside.

Then is a short letter from Luna, congratulating me on my inheritance and asking if we could meet in the Forbidden Forest to enjoy the nature. Smiling, I quickly wrote that I would love to, and ask a date and time.

Now is the final letter. No charms, spells, potions, or powders were in it, but sometimes there doesn’t have to be. 

I slowly unroll the parchment, which is telling all on its own, -no one who knows me sends me letters on parchment- and stare. And stare. And stare.

 _Dear ~~Mr~~. Potter,_ it read. _I would like to ~~say that I’m~~ use this letter as the opening for a formal apology and thanks. I ~~know that you~~ recognize that you have ~~been a pain in my ass~~ saved my life many a time, and that apologies are in order for my past ~~dickheadedness~~ behaviors. _

_Now that all the ~~boring~~ formal bits are done, I need your help. Mother has decided to accept Azkaban at her trial ~~which is ridiculous~~._

_I know that you sent a letter to help with my trial ~~for some inconceivable reason~~ , and I was hoping you would do the same_ _for Mother?_

_She does not deserve Azkaban, she did nothing but try to protect me. She never agreed with Father ~~who would?~~ , but nothing she did could persuade him to stay away from Voldemort._

_If you accept ~~and I hope you do~~ , we will need to meet at the Manor at least once, and mother has expressed interest in speaking to you but -as she is unaware of this letter- has resigned herself to never meeting with you._

_I beg of you ~~no I don’t, Malfoy’s do not~~_ ~~beg~~ _, at least consider it._

_Draco Malfoy,  
Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy_

What the fuck did I just read?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long to write 😭😭😭 hope you enjoyed my blood, sweat, and tears...


End file.
